Even before deployment, Reece hadn't cared much for possessions. He liked things simple. Which was why he didn't mind the minimalistic setup Dotty had whipped up for him years ago. In the cabin, a few yards away from the main house of the ranch, he had a single bed, a narrow closet, a chair and a desk arranged in a rather small room. There was a cross above the bed—Dotty had insisted. Frank, her husband, had also made sure to rearrange the bathroom a little so Reece could actually turn around in it. It was tiny. But he'd gotten used to bumping into the sink or the little drawer below it. It was alright. Nothing to complain about.

The burning heat of the afternoon had lowered to a slow simmer as he cracked the cabin door open, dust kicking up inside the little hallway that led to his room.

Reece had been on edge all day. That kid, Frank’s nephew—Elijah—had started hanging around, bothering him. Apparently, he’d been banished to the ranch for the entire school year due to some trouble he’d had back home. And ever since Reece had realized where he knew Elijah from—that filthy video he'd watched weeks ago—he couldn't get the young man out of his head. The memory had become sharper, so much so that he could almost remember what Elijah looked and sounded like when he came—back arched, face flushed.

He had to find that video.

Toeing off his boots in the hallway, Reece quickly pushed the door to his room open. He was sweaty, and he should definitely take a shower first, but the semi he'd nursed during the last half hour demanded his attention. For the first time in years, he felt rushed. A surge of adrenaline teased its way through his body as he fiddled to pull his socks and sweat-soaked shirt off.

The setting sun shone directly onto the desk opposite the window where he'd left his phone in the morning. He never used it on the ranch, and quite frankly, no one called him anyway. He'd cut contact with his family and friends years ago, so the only point of having this phone was to look at porn. No apologies, no excuses, and really, no one cared. Not seeking any sexual encounters didn't mean that he wasn't horny as hell—from time to time that was.

Today was one of those days.

Reece left the door to his room halfway open, his shirt and socks dropping to the floor as he grabbed the phone with his dirty fingers and then quickly wiped them off at his jeans.

That'd do.

The throb of his cock intensified. Reece gave a relieved grunt and settled down in the chair next to the small desk. It protested at his weight, skidding back against the wall. With the last rays of sunlight playing over his face, he opened up his browser history while his left hand found his hardening member at the inside of his thigh.

Shuddering with arousal, he rubbed firmly, causing it to thicken and stiffen more as he scrolled through the videos he'd watched.

Had he been mistaken? Perhaps his mind had played a trick on him? After all, it was a rather presumptuous—

There he was.

He'd recognize that cheeky grin from miles away. For a moment, he circled his thumb over the screen—not touching it yet—gazing at the little preview of Elijah cocking his head to the side, smirking, hair falling from his face.

A little angel in disguise.

Fuck.

Reece lifted himself up in the chair; it creaked miserably before he put his phone back on the table and popped open the button of his jeans. God damn it, the material felt way too tight around his legs, like a second skin. But he wasn't going to peel them off now. All he needed was to free his pulsing erection so he could get started.

With a few skilled movements, he opened his jeans enough to reach in and uncover his girthy cock. Reece sighed at the eased pressure around his shaft, the hot air in the room embracing his heated skin. Before releasing his balls from the confining fabric, he made sure to pull his jeans down farther so his sensitive sack wouldn't graze across that mean zipper. Been there, done that.

With pants halfway down his massive thighs, Reece settled back in his chair and unlocked his phone again. There he was. Elijah. Exposed. One click away. His dick had reached its full-on rock-hard status the moment the video loaded completely. It was Elijah. His voice. His eyes. That cheeky fucking grin he sometimes wanted to slap off the young man’s face. Elijah had been following Reece around for days now, and he'd settled on saying something eventually. Telling him to back off. But now...

For a few more moments, he watched the young man move and talk; enchanted. The sun reflected off the small screen as Elijah uncovered himself, maddeningly slowly sliding down a tight pair of pants. He was a tease. That much Reece was sure of.

Reece shifted, his hand firmly wrapped around his shaft, feeling every little pulse in sync with his heartbeat. Eyes fixated on the screen, hazed and dazed as he tugged lazily at his shaft, watching Elijah bring his finger between his lips as he strode towards the camera, leaning down a little.

He'd remembered that video days after he'd watched it. And he'd even browsed through Elijah's playlist, but then Frank had interrupted his evening jerk-off ritual, telling him that a couple of coyotes were making trouble.

Reece gave his hard-on a slow stroke from the fat base to its foreskin-covered crown. Precum and sweat glistened in the dim light but also made it easier for him to pump his boner, his balls following the movement. As he inhaled, his arousal intensified, buzzing through his veins and increasing the tension in his gut. Man, he needed to get off, shoot his load before sundown.

But then, suddenly, Reece's gaze shifted toward a new video displayed next to the one he was watching. It'd been uploaded a few days ago.

Wait.

A few days ago?

His brow creased.

Here?

Reece couldn't stop from tapping it, his finger leaving a sweaty imprint on the screen. As the video loaded, he noticed the heavy thumping of his heartbeat in his chest. He ran his thumb across the length of his erection, testing its hardness by pulling it back from him only to have it smack against his stomach.

Slap! Hot and sweaty.

Raking his left hand through his hair, he let his head fall back for a moment, waiting for the video to load. He really shouldn't be watching this. And yet, he couldn't help himself. Hunching forward, Reece tugged his jeans down his thighs and calves that had shaped the denim perfectly over the years. It took a few sharp movements until his pants were around his ankles and before he could pull them off completely, the sound of the video ripped him from his task.

His cock bobbed, swayed and then stilled as he fisted it. Fuck. Elijah had really recorded a video on the ranch. He could recognize the setup of his room. Same kind of furniture, same kind of cross above the bed.

Reece swallowed hard, his gaze becoming blurry until he blinked a couple of times and adjusted himself on the chair. Hand on his cock, balls tingling the longer he held his erection like that. There was no way he could move, or back out from watching this; all he could do was focus on Elijah, the way he moved and what he...said?

A low and throaty moan came from him as he leaned back into the chair and began jerking slowly, the sheer girth of his cock barely noticeable in his big hand. 'Bout eight inches and a half long, and, jeez, it was thick. He could vividly remember the last time he'd had sex and how the heavily tattooed and pierced girl had palmed his chest as he tried to drive into her. Too much. Too much. Too much. She'd gasped and whimpered. Ordinarily, it would be a compliment, but ultimately, they had to stop because she just wasn't "built for him". She'd settled for sucking him off instead. Which was fine, but still. God, he wished he could remember the last time he'd been pounding a girl recklessly, without caring about breaking her beneath him. With his weight, his massive hands or dick.

Grunting, Reece picked up the pace of his hand, his foreskin whipping up and down the head of his cock as he watched Elijah take his pajama pants off. Oh, this was such a turn on. Watching him reveal himself. The boy was so slender. Weightless almost. And man, so wicked. With those glinting piercings and bedroom eyes, his mouth watered at the sight. His balls bounced heavily as he kept jerking himself, the glistening and crimson cockhead catching the fading sunlight. His fingers were laced with precum that oozed from the slit the more he let his hand race up and down. Sinking even farther into the chair, he could barely keep his focus on the video until—

He doesn’t talk much, but oh fuck when he does, it gets me so hard.

Reece winced noticeably at those words, his fist clasping around his dick as he stopped the motions of his hand. Heartbeat going a mile a minute.

Who?

What?